Wicked beats, p.1
Wicked Beats, page 1
WICKED BEATS
Book 3
Infinity Prism Series
By
Kylie Walker
Table of Contents
Title Page
Wicked Beats
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2019 by Kylie Walker
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Kylie Walker holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
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Chapter One
Thick crust supreme with mushrooms and extra cheese. It was the perfect pizza and Asher Quest wanted it in his mouth right fucking now.
“Let’s run that one again.” Peter, the producer they had just hired for their band Infinity Prism, waved his hand in the air in that annoying way that said he planned on keeping them all here until who knew when. For some reason, the band had agreed they needed someone to kick them into shape as they produced their highly anticipated new album. Asher didn’t remember ever asking for a Drill Sergeant to do the job—which apparently Peter had been in his former life. But he begrudgingly had to admit the man was damn good at what he did.
“I think we’ve got it,” Asher sighed. He and the four other members of the band had been up way too late last night, and he was starving. He needed to feed his hangover, not starve it. Peter, as always, sensed their collective weaknesses and took the opportunity to push them past their limits.
Peter’s brows peaked, his lips forming oval shape. He leaned to the microphone that allowed him to speak into the studio from the production room. “I think we’ll try that again, putting more emphasis on the first verse and the middle transition.”
The snap in his voice made Asher glad the producer was glaring at them through the glass from the production room instead of face-to-face. The man had military rubbed all over him.
Asher glanced at Colton and Trevor and took a deep breath.
“He’s the reason we’re going to be on the top of the charts again,” Lucas said in true peacekeeper style.
“Alright.” Asher sighed and adjusted his headset. He breathed into the microphone. “Let’s do it.” Asher knew it was no use trying to argue. The quicker he relented, the sooner his stomach could stop eating itself.
It had been two years since the bands last major tour. They were in the finishing stages of polishing up their latest album. Excitement buzzed around the room those days. It was an amazing feeling to see tangible results of hard work, motivation and drive centered all around spectacular music.
They were all tired, but the general consensus was that they were proud of the results and couldn’t wait for their fandom to get their hands on these new tunes. They had poured their hearts and souls out into this album, and Asher knew it was going to be one of their best ones to release to date.
Asher ran through the verses, belting out the lyrics and singing his heart out. As back-up vocalist and keyboardist, he had to be on his A game all the time. It was a tough job, but he wouldn’t trade his career, or the fame and fortune that came along with it, for anything else in the world. Getting in the zone, the time passed and before he realized it, they’d finished the run-through.
“Better. So much better.” Peter tapped on the glass from the production room and gave them a thumbs up.
“Excellent,” Asher said as he high-fived his fellow band members.
“That sounded awesome,” Lucas told Asher with a brotherly slap on the back.
“We should have this one wrapped up in the next couple of weeks; I’d say,” Peter agreed.
“I’m exhausted,” Trevor yawned and stretched.
“Me too,” Roman nodded his agreement.
“I could go out for a drink,” Asher shrugged. He wasn’t tired, just hungry, but that was the norm. He was always full of energy that builds until it demanded release. A few stiff drinks usually did the trick.
Roman chuckled. “You might be on your own for that one buddy I’m going to call it a night. Besides, Emelia is waiting back at home for me.”
Asher was only slightly disappointed. He had already made up his mind to go regardless of whether his friends joined him or not. Roman barely hung out anymore anyway, not that he had a fiancé.
“I guess that is one of the perks of being single,” Asher pointed to himself. “No strings attached. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want.”
Roman rolled his eyes, but Asher knew that he took the teasing all in stride. Asher didn’t have a love interest and he didn’t care. He had a career to focus on. He didn’t need anyone to stand in the way of his dream as he lived it each day.
Asher moved through the studio and began packing his portable keyboard. He had several keyboards, but this one he never left behind. It was fail proof, lucky.
“We’ll see you tomorrow?” Colton asked as he walked with Asher.
“Yeah,” Asher nodded. “I’ll be there for sure.”
They had plans to meet up with their manager Burt to discuss details of the upcoming promotional tours they planned.
“I’m looking forward to getting back out on the road,” Lucas chuckled, coming up behind them.
“Me too,” Asher nodded as he began to unplug his keyboard. “I get that itch after a couple of years. I must be a nomad at heart.”
The band had spent most of the past two years both relaxing and working on their music. They took about nine months off after the European leg of their tour ended to recuperate. They had creative minds to rest and recover, but their need for adventure began to brew quickly.
For the past year or so, they had been back in the studio developing new music that they were proud to call their own and display on their new album to share with not only their fans but the world too.
It took a substantial amount of work and creative insight in order to pull not only a record together but a backing tour to follow after. It was mentally and physically exhausting, but Asher loved the challenge. He loved being in the spotlight and in the center of hundreds of thousands of adoring fans.
The guys preferred to do smaller, cozier promotional tours before they started to build a huge international giant of a tour. Those things took time to develop and design. There were hundreds of manpower hours involved. And they liked to take things slow, test them out, before throwing themselves all in.
Soon, everything would be in place and people around the world would be downloading their new tunes and devouring their promotional activities.
“To tell you the truth, I’m not looking forward to the meeting,” Trevor said as he wandered over to the door.
Asher laughed. “I know what you mean. Henry can be a bear sometimes.”
“He’s the most aggressive person I’ve ever met,” Lucas added.
“At least he works hard for us,” Asher shrugged, trying to look at the bright side. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky and Henry will be in a good mood tomorrow.”
Trevor shook his head. “Dude, we are never that lucky.”
Asher pushed his way out the door first, saying goodnight to everybody along the way.
“Are you sticking around?” He asked Peter, craning his neck back into the studio curiously.
“For a few minutes, to wrap things up,” he said as he cast Asher a military style wave. “See you guys later.”
“Have a good night,” Asher responded as he hiked the strap of his keyboard bag over his shoulder.
“You too,” Peter called out behind him.
“Take it easy, man,” Lucas said as he crossed paths with Asher in the parking lot. It was late and most of the band members wanted to part ways for the night and unwind privately at home.
“I’m just glad there aren’t paparazzi hanging out tonight,” Asher chuckled.
“Don’t be so sure yet,” Lucas said with a groan as he pointed across the street.
Asher’s gaze trailed in the direction where Lucas’ arm extended. A few flashes of light flickered in the distance, undoubtedly the flash bulbs of the deadbeat camera man’s lenses. “Great,” Asher murmured sarcastically. “Just what I need.”
There was a time and a place to be photographed, but he couldn’t stand it when his pr
“I hate those invaders,” Lucas mumbled under his breath.
“Me too,” Asher said as he plucked his car keys from his pocket.
“Do you want me to be your wing man tonight boss?” Raphael, Asher’s burly bodyguard, asked as he opened the tailgate to his Tahoe.
Asher glanced up at him. He was a soft, big ole teddy bear underneath his tough exterior.
“You must have heard me mention that I wanted to go out for a drink,” Asher said with a grunt as he pushed his keyboard into the trunk area of the car.
“I did,” he agreed with a nod.
“Tell you what,” Asher began and gave him a smile. “If you come with me, I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Who could say no to that?” Raphael laughed and rubbed his shiny bald head under the glow of the moonlight.
“Hop in then.” Asher tufted his chin in the direction of the passenger seat.
“One drink.” Raphael side-eyed him.
“One drink.”
Raphael extended a hand to shake with him. “Deal.”
Normally, Asher let his bodyguard drive, but tonight he wanted the wheel gripped in his hands, to feel the vehicle’s power under his control. Raphael had been with the band about six months—another ex-military staffer—who took his job seriously but had a softer side that played out well with their fans. The eagle-eye he kept on the band members made sure they were safe from rabid fans, but the softer side of him didn’t stop respectful fans from shaking hands with the band or getting autographs. He had once helped a disabled teenager make her way to the front of the line for a signing, helping her hold up a notebook for each member of Infinity Prism to sign.
Raphael was a good man and Asher respected him.
They drove down the highway. The city street lamps lined the highway and faded into one long blur as they whizzed past. It was a little after ten, but far too early in Asher’s mind to just go home and flip channels. He wasn’t ready to turn in for the night yet. He wanted to be adventurous. He loved people watching, and a busy Chicago bar was a great place to start.
Much to Asher’s relief, they were lucky enough to get only green lights on the way. He picked a bar that was close to his house, so they wouldn’t have to drive far to get back home.
“Are you excited to get out there and promote your new album?” Raphael asked.
“Hell yeah,” Asher responded. He smiled but kept his eyes on the road. “I’ll tell you one thing; I really missed life on the road.”
“Me too,” Raphael laughed. “And I never thought I’d be one to say that.”
“You and me both,” Asher sighed and gripped the steering wheel. He pulled into a vacant spot right across the street from the bar.
“Nice parallel parking job boss,” Raphael said.
“Living in Chicago, you have to have tons of practice in that department,” Asher laughed.
They climbed out of the Tahoe and walked across the street. There was a westward breeze that came in from the river that brushed in some relief from the stifling summer night. It was true that winters were a brutal beast in the Windy City, but the summers could feel like they were choking you too. Even after the crazy weather was factored in, Asher still loved his home city where he had been born and raised.
He was floating through the clouds, living the dream. Growing up, Asher didn’t have a lot of opportunities to get ahead. His father was a factory worker and his mother stayed at home to keep Asher and his two younger brothers in line.
It was quite an adaptation to come from nothing and where money was tight to now having more money than Asher knew what to do with. He was fully equipped with stocks and a financial advisor; the works. His mom was proud of him; she told him all the time. He knew deep down his father harboured some resentment of his successes. Asher knew that it was probably some underlying jealousy issues, but it still tugged at his heart every now and then all the same.
Sometimes his parents would come to watch the band’s concerts, and Asher’s mom would always cheer for him from the front row with a glimmer of pride in her eyes. Her support was definitely something that got Asher through the hard times, growing up and as an adult. He didn’t know what he would do without her. He was a mama’s boy, through and through.
“Are you ready to do this man?” Asher asked as he and Raphael headed into the bar.
It was one of those dive types of places where you didn’t have to wait in a ridiculous line in order to get in. It was tucked away at the end of a street and had that rustic, cobblestone charm.
The building looked out of place for modern Chicago, the old-style brick lending it to the only historic building left on this street. That’s what Asher loved about these dive bars. The people were local and unique, but they weren’t about frills and fuss. He could probably go into this place without even being noticed or bothered by a single person, and that’s what Asher was looking for tonight.
“Let’s do this.” Raphael gave him a fist bump.
“That’s the kind of enthusiasm I like to see,” Asher grinned as the pair walked into the bar together, ready to conquer the night.
Chapter Two
The bar wasn’t crowded. A few patrons sat at the bar. A bartender poured whiskey into a glass cup for an elderly gentleman wearing a worn out and ragged old baseball cap.
It may have seemed like a rundown place to most, but to Asher, it was exactly what the doctor ordered. He didn’t want to be fussed over or recognized. If anyone approached him here and asked for an autograph, he’d be surprised. He wasn’t in the mood to be bothered tonight. He hoped this place had pizza.
“Let’s sit over there,” Asher suggested to Raphael after he spotted a pair of empty seats near the empty pool tables.
“Sounds good to me boss,” Raphael said.
They sat down and waited for the bartender to acknowledge they were there. It shouldn’t have been that hard, he only had two other customers besides Asher and Raphael. After several irritating minutes, Asher cleared his throat.
The bartender spun around and appeared to be genuinely embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Not a problem,” Asher said. The poor guy was at least several shades of crimson. He must have been lost in his own little world and hadn’t been paying attention.
He ran a hand through his thinning straw colored hair. “What can I get you boys tonight?
“Two fingers of whiskey neat,” Asher said and then craned his neck expectantly to Raphael. “Raph?”
Asher would be paying. Raphael could have just about anything he wanted. Even if they had food on the menu and Raphael wanted to order something, Asher would have obliged him.
“Bud Light,” Raphael said politely.
“Coming right up,” the bartender said with a friendly smile.
Asher curled his lips in playful taunting. “A big guy like you drinks Bud Light? I figured you more as a Crown and Coke type dude.”
Raphael chuckled and leaned back in his seat. “Somebody has to drive us home, remember?”
Asher rolled his eyes good naturedly. “One drink, remember?”
“Have you ever followed that rule before?”
“A time or two.” Asher grinned.
He loved the slide of alcohol down his throat, the hot burn of quality whiskey hitting his chest. The slow, languid warmth of it spreading throughout his body.
The bartender brought their drinks and placed them on a napkin on the bar top in front of them. “Would you fellas like to start a tab?”
Asher pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it to the bartender. “No thanks, but I sure would like a pepperoni and sausage pizza with extra cheese. Can you make that happen?”
The man eyed the money with an amused grin. “I sure can. Thick or thin?”
“Thick, man. Is there any other way?” He liked his women the same damn way.
“You got it.”
“Keep the change.” Asher handed over the cash and picked up his drink.
The man gave an appreciative nod. “Thanks, man.”
Asher didn’t normally whip money around like it was nothing, not without good cause. But he was feeling generous tonight. Maybe being at the end of the album production was putting him in a free-spirited mood.
